Meet Me in the Meadow
by clonedmemories
Summary: She's still not comfortable in her own skin, not quite yet. But Kurt thinks he knows how to show her just how beautiful she really is. Featuring MTF!Blaine.


**Meet Me In The Meadow**

**Pairing: **Kurt/Blayne  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>This features MTF!Blaine, as in _Seeing Through The Dark._ I understand that this isn't some people's cup of tea, so if this isn't what you like reading, then I'd suggest that this isn't for you.

Otherwise, enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Kurt, I'm really not so sure about this - ,"<p>

"Blayne, it's okay. Please, just trust me." Their fingers slip together, an aching honesty in the Kurt's eyes just behind her reflection, shattered by worry. The sun winks down on them through the haze of afternoon heat, and Kurt presses a soft kiss to her forehead as they stand amongst the meadow, scattered with the raindrops of flowers. She seems to relax a little with the touch, but the etchings of worry still fall on her face.

"I don't know what you really intend to achieve from this, though -,"

"I want to show you just – how – beautiful – you – are." Kurt punctuates each word with a kiss, stolen from the sun, each one a whisper.

Blayne is unconvinced, but she can let Kurt have his fantasy, right?

"Now Blayne, I want you to just lie down here, on your back, and rest your arms behind your head."

She follows the instructions, allowing a shaft of light to fall onto her face, shutting her eyes instinctively. Kurt kneels above her, toys with her curls a little, hems with the line of the dress he bought for her, bends her knee – just a little...

_Perfect._

Kurt lifts the camera from around the chain, opens the lens, and clicks.

A slight shift to the right, and click.

Click.

Click.

"Now Blayne, just turn over onto your front."

She does so, a little lazily, drowning in the dreams, and flutters her eyes slightly like angel's wings as she opens them, smiling up at Kurt.

"What now?"

"Arms folded, on the ground, and both legs in the air, crossed over just a bit."

"Like this?" Kurt can't decide if Kurt's trying to fake innocence or teasing, but he doesn't care either way, because she looks so pretty either way. In this new position, you can make out the soft petals of her forming breasts and her curls frame her face so sweetly, making her features more gentle, pastel and watercolour instead of crayon.

Kurt doesn't know how many times a day Blayne can take his breath away, but she can certainly make more.

He bends down to kiss her temple briefly, before returning to the camera in an attempt to capture a modicum of how stunning she looks, of the beauty of the situation, because the whole reason for this is to show her just how amazing she is, inside and out.

More clicks.

"How's that for you?"

"Perfect, Blayne. You're perfect."

He sees the doubt she tries to hide behind her eyes.

"I love you, Kurt."

"I love you too, but we're not finished. I want some less-posed shots as well."

"So, what do you want me to do?"

"Try channelling your inner Julie Andrews."

Blaine laughs a little, before tentatively turning on the ball of one of her bare feet. And hey, this could be fun. So she starts to spin, and she starts to laugh, and she sparkles like wind chimes and she's stunning as the dress flares around her and the material ripples like water and she's everything.

Meanwhile Kurt snaps, trying to capture her face, the light worshipping her body, the dance of the shadows around her, the twist and turn of fabric, all of it. And he can only hope that he has.

It's soon that Blayne begins to slow down, a blush budding over her cheeks, and she laughs through her breaths as she falls into Kurt's waiting arms.

"You – are- amazing," Kurt tells her, punctuating each word with a kiss, just like he had done earlier. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she hums contentedly into an exhale.

* * *

><p>It's later, back at home, when Kurt's loaded the pictures onto the computer, that he finally gets to take a look at his efforts.<p>

His breath catches a little in his throat.

Blayne, surrounded by flowers and grasses. Blayne, looking relaxed and contented and happy. Blayne, a model, a muse.

Kurt feels like an artist, blessed to have been given such a stunner to share his work with. But Lizzie Siddal, Jane Morris, Sophie Gray; they had nothing on his Blayne Anderson, who he loves above anything, and who deserves everything he can give her.

He selects three pictures – one on her back, one smiling up at him and one of her amongst the flowers, a lightning-strike in the middle of movement. He prints them, places them in a photo frame, takes them on Blayne and hands them to her.

"You see this person here? She's my girlfriend, and she's absolutely beautiful, and I love her."


End file.
